It's Been A While
by JamJar98
Summary: Jack could feel her breathing speed up, she feared that if he stalled any longer she might actually start to hyperventilate. Smoldering blue eyes met hers, the uncertainty in them a surprising change. Placing a hand on his chest, she could feel his heart hammer against his ribs. Grabbing a fist full of his dark blue Marine hoodie she pulled him closer. Established Slibbs tags.
1. It's Been A While

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: I haven't written FF in ages, life has been one roller-coaster ride after the other. On top of that my muse decided to go on hiatus and refused to return._

 _This is my first Slibbs fic, I was inspired by all the great writers out there who've already written some great pieces. I don't think there is any plot to this, I just desperately wanted them to get together. This feels slightly OOC and it's not all that great, but hey, everyone knows I'm sappy ;) To all my Jibbs readers, no I haven't abandoned our ship._

 _Warning: Not much, I just borrowed some dialog from 'The Princess Bride'_

" _ **Come on, Gibbs, 'The Princess Bride'."**_

" _ **Yeah… Yeah, I know. It's just been a while" 16x7**_

 _Enjoy*_

* * *

The gentle back and forth of the sander was almost soothing as it slid across the wood – almost. Slapping the sander on the nearest flat surface, he wandered towards the workbench. Half a bottle of bourbon already waiting for him. Pulling the bottle of _Maker's Mark_ closer, he filled his mug with a copious amount of amber liquid.

Gripping the bottle tightly, he watched the liquid slosh around inside the tempered glass. A frown creased his brow as he hooked a nail under the bottle's label. He couldn't remember when he had opened it, the frown quickly disappeared when he found the answer to his predicament.

The other mug sitting on his workbench brought a small smirk to his lips. Jethro hooked a finger around the ear of the empty mug, bringing it closer for inspection. Holding it up in the dim light, he found the barest smear of nude pink on the brim.

He preferred sharing a couple of beers with Jacqueline Sloane and listening to her regale him with strange encounters in her profession. Some nights he found himself in her office, doing his paperwork at the small coffee table while she was busy with her own.

The pretense of keeping secrets had gone right out the window the first night Elena had been placed in their custody. The onslaught of memories had been strong, and Jack was too perceptive to let it slide. When the little girl had been tucked in safely, he had told Jack about his own little girl.

Jethro let his gaze drift to the metal box that sat neatly against the wall, a quiet reminder of the first time he'd considered kissing her. He licked his dry lips, his mind flickering with images.

Jack had been staring back at him, the smile on her lips faint. She appeared to be glowing in the dim light of the lamp hanging above them. He was mesmerized by every inch of her. He found himself gripping his beer bottle for dear life that night, trying to stop himself from tucking a wisp of golden locks behind her ear. Her eyes had reminded him of honey smooth and warm – sweet.

He shook his head. He had been tempted to close the distance between them, but he'd ultimately lost his nerve. If he had been ten years younger, he might have followed through. But, he wasn't, and it had been a while since a woman had actually shown any interest in him.

Things had been a little tense between them after the Ray Jennings case. It had been a natural reflex on his part to take her hand in his, to feel the softness of her touch on his skin. Maybe he'd let too much of his feelings slip when she'd looked at him? Or maybe his feelings were simply one sided.

Reaching for his mug of bourbon, he took a healthy gulp, the alcohol burning down his throat.

He'd avoided her the last two weeks. Hoping he'd get a better hold of his rapidly failing self-control. It gave him some time to think about what it was he wanted to get himself into. She'd been busy with cases from other teams, giving him a good enough excuse for his distance.

Jethro scrubbed a hand over his face, hoping to force the tiredness away long enough for him to get some work done on the boat. Grabbing a different sander, he moseyed towards the piece of wood he'd been busy with, the mug of bourbon in the other hand.

He stopped when he heard a muffled voice. He checked his watch, wondering which one of his team would show up on a Friday night. A pair of white sneakers appeared at the top of the stairs, the light shining in his eyes not helping identify who it was.

"Howdy, Cowboy." A familiar voice rang through his basement.

Jethro wiped his hands on a cloth, running a hand through his hair to dislodge the wood shavings. Taking a drink of his bourbon, he watched as she descended the stairs, puzzled as to why she was here. Even tough he never listened to scuttlebutt, he did happen to overhear as he passed someone that Jack had a date tonight.

"Jack." Came his greeting as he watched her curiously.

She rounded the boat, her brown eyes dancing over the bare frame with quiet amusement. Slender fingers touched a smooth rib, gliding elegantly, the question right there on the tip of her tongue. But, like every other night she wandered into the basement, she refrained from asking why he was building a boat down here.

Jethro offered her his mug as she stopped in front of him. He met her warm gaze over the brim, discreetly watching her as she sipped his bourbon thoughtfully.

"Thought you had a date." He didn't look away when she raised an eyebrow at him. Shrugging his shoulders, he took the mug off her hands. "The orange walls have ears." He snorted at his own joke when she let out a laugh, mirth dancing in pools of honey as she fluttered her eyes at him.

Jack studied him, watching the slight flush on his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears. She chewed the inside of her lip as he stared at her, hoping to hide the nerves that suddenly bubbled up inside her. Sliding her hands in her back pockets, she blinded him with another smile.

"Actually, I do have a date." There was the barest hint of uncertainty in her voice, but he didn't seem to notice.

Jethro swallowed the last drop of bourbon, hoping to hide the disappointment. He nodded before making his way back to the workbench, suddenly dead set on finishing the bottle tonight. Hoping to drown the jealousy lurking at the back of his mind.

"That's if you don't mind pizza and beer." She smiled as his head snapped up sharply, silver eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Bishop invited me to her goat-yoga class, and I did not want to go. So I brought dinner instead."

Jethro shrugged his shoulders, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he wiped his hands again with a rag. "I guess I could eat." He followed her upstairs, a gentle hand resting on the small of her back. He couldn't help but notice that she looked really good in a pair of jeans and a casual jumper.

Jack bit her lip again. She'd never been this flustered around a man before. She usually had better control over her nerves, but this was nothing more than dinner between friends. Right? That's what she thought a few months ago as well, and she'd almost ended up kissing him in his basement.

The slight pressure of his palm on her back had her spinning around, almost knocking the beer bottles out of his hand. Tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, she relieved him of one chilled bottle, trying to ignore the concern on his face.

"You okay, Jack?" His eyes were gentle, sucking her into their blue depths.

"Yeah." She smiled, clinking her glass bottle against his. "Let's eat."

Jethro threw himself down on the couch, slice of pizza in hand as he finally relaxed. He reached for the TV's remote, hoping that he'd find one of his favorite westerns. Irritation flashed across his face when the damn thing didn't work. Slamming it against his knee, he tried again.

"Aggression never works, Gibbs." Jack pointed out as she rummaged through her handbag.

"Yeah, well, it works for me." He grumbled as he slammed the piece of plastic on the coffee table.

Jack smiled, sauntering over to the old TV. She could feel his eyes on her as she bent down, pressing the right buttons in order for the TV to come to life. Satisfied with herself she waited until the old VCR kicked into life, whirring softly.

"How'd you get it to work?" He sounded skeptical, waiting for the old piece of technology to stutter to a stop.

She gave him that look that meant she was up to no good. Grabbing a slice of now cold pizza, she flopped down next to him. "Let's just say, I'm equipped."

Jethro rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment. "McGee." Trust Tim to let a comment like that slip. He growled quietly as he drank his beer. He didn't even want to know how Jack had found out, but he was willing to put his money on either Torres or Bishop.

Jack settled next to him, close enough to smell the faintest whiff of sawdust. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he shifted, first closer to her and then freezing when he realized what he was doing. She'd found herself spending more time with him recently.

In the beginning he had presented her with a challenge, never showing any form of emotion or reaction. He'd stare at her, eyes guarded, silently daring her to try and read him. In the beginning she'd fallen head first in his trap, his only sign of victory, a small smirk as he took one of her lollipops.

As she got to know him, she had come to enjoy the little arrogant smirk he gave her when she couldn't figure out what he was up to. She felt her stomach flutter as he unconsciously shifted towards her again. She turned towards him fractionally, so she could get a better look at him.

Deep brown eyes traced over his features. It was evident that he wasn't as young as he used to be, but it didn't take away the fact that he was still an attractive man. Those sparkling blue eyes had drawn her in the moment she had met him, and occasionally she dreamed of endless pools of blue. The faint scar under his eye reminded her of the hell they both shared.

"You done starin'?" His voice startled her. Jack bit her lip, trying to muffle the gasp she almost let slip.

Jethro looked at her, a sliver eyebrow raised. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as she smiled shyly and turned her attention back to the old TV. Giving him ample opportunity to admire how beautiful she looked in the soft glow of a nearby lamp.

The house was momentarily quiet as the film's title appeared on screen. The atmosphere between them shifted. She was all too aware that she might be pushing a number of his boundaries tonight. The breath he took sounded heavy, pained even. She reached out towards him, her hand resting on his knee.

"We can watch something else." She was willing to give him a way out. All too familiar with what it was like reliving painful memories.

Jethro grit his teeth, his brow furrowed with torment. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shook his head, meeting her concerned eyes. "The Princess Bride..." He placed his hand over hers, "Guess it's better than a repeat western."

Jack gave his knee a reassuring squeeze, sensing that there was something else that he had wanted to say. The glistening in his eyes made her almost feel bad for springing this on him so suddenly. Shifting her attention back to the film, she felt Jethro grasp her hand in his. This time she didn't dare pull away.

* * *

The film was almost over, and he'd abandoned the pretense of paying attention to the movie, instead he focused his attention on the woman next to him. He was all too aware of her tonight. She was biting the tip of her thumb, something she did when she was particularly engrossed, but this time there was a smile on her lips.

The characters on screen finally shared the much awaited kiss. Her hand dropped to her chest, her contentment with the ending visible in her eyes. He silently wished that their night wouldn't end, it had been years since he actually enjoyed a film, even if he didn't pay attention.

Jack dropped her head against the back of the couch, eyes shut as she listened to the soundtrack. She felt Jethro's hand slip out of hers, but she refused to open her eyes. She could hear him stand up, but he moved around quietly.

She heard him shuffle around the kitchen. Reluctantly opening her eyes, she grabbed the empty pizza box, heading to help him in the kitchen. The percolator was already whirring as she came up behind him. He glanced at her over his shoulder, giving her a smile as she stretched her stiff muscles.

"You enjoy the movie?" It was a silly question, but he just wanted to hear her voice.

"Yeah." She stood next to him, her shoulder pressing against his. "It's timeless."

He simply nodded, once again bombarded with memories. Pouring them each a cup of coffee, he slid the sugar container towards Jack, watching in distaste as she nearly emptied half the container in her coffee. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he led her back to the couch.

They sipped their coffee in silence for a few minutes. Clearing his throat, Jethro turned towards her. "Kelly had discovered the movie when she was about seven." He chuckled. "She watched it so much that she could recite most of it from memory."

Jack offered him a comforting smile. It didn't take much of her psychological knowledge to deduce that Gibbs had been absolutely smitten with his little girl.

They finished the rest of their coffee in silence. They were both reluctant for the night to end. Placing the old tape back in its case, Jack once again wandered into the kitchen, watching as Jethro rinsed the two mugs they had used.

He dried his hands on a dishtowel, leaning against the sink. Watching the woman across from him as she met his gaze. She didn't seem phased by his sudden urge to constantly look at her. His eyes flicked down to her lips as she licked them, and he had to swallow.

Before he knew it, he was a few inches away from her. He could smell her perfume, a scent so soft and sweet, but strong enough to cling to the fabric of his clothing whenever she touched him. The light above them reflected in her dark eyes, turning them into pools of liquid gold.

A tendril of blonde hair enticed him to wrap it around his finger, feeling its velvety weight as he tucked it behind her ear. Roughened fingers brushed against her cheek as he slowly dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel his heart thunder in his throat as her eyes fluttered at the contact. Unconsciously he leaned down towards her; her breath warm against his lips.

Jack could feel her breathing speed up, she feared that if he stalled any longer she might actually start to hyperventilate. Smoldering blue eyes met hers, the uncertainty in them a surprising change. Placing a hand on his chest, she could feel his heart hammer against his ribs. Grabbing a fist full of his dark blue Marine hoodie she pulled him closer.

"Kiss me." She whispered hoarsely.

Jethro weaved his fingers in her hair, an arm slipping around her waist and pulling her against him. "As you wish."

Jack's eyes slid shut as Jethro kissed her, lips meeting for the first time. He was gentle, teasingly coaxing her into kissing him back. She placed a hand on his cheek, the barest hint of a stubble scratching the palm of her hand. She felt light headed, getting lost in the way he was kissing her.

Jethro curled his fingers in the light jumper she had on, pulling her against him. Both her hands were on either side of his face, preventing him from pulling away. The need for air had them both quietly gasping. Jack grinned as he wrapped his other arm around her waist as well.

Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him again. The tip of her tongue tracing his bottom lip enough of an invitation for him to part his lips. One hand was in his hair, manicured nails scraping against his scalp causing the fire in the pit of his stomach to intensify. He moaned in the back of his throat as she stopped her ministrations.

They simply stared at each other, chests heaving. He moved a stray strand of hair out of her face, finding himself getting lost in her eyes once again.

* * *

The air felt sticky as he tried to catch his breath. Blood was still rushing through his veins, heart thumping almost out of control. His muscles still quivered and contracted sporadically whenever his lover shifted against him.

Jack kept her legs locked around his hips, determined to keep him in place for as long as possible. She eased the death grip she had on his ribs, leaning up to kiss him as an apology for the crescent shapes her nails had left behind. She relaxed, her legs sliding down the back of his.

Jethro shifted, laying down next to her, one arm thrown casually above his head. He placed his hand on her thigh, massaging gently. He focused on her ragged breathing, hoping to keep his mind from straying to the inevitable.

Things between them were about to get a whole lot more complicated. He had rules against things like this, but Jack had thrown his rule book along with his self-control right out the proverbial window.

He followed her movements as she rolled onto her side, her back to him.

He'd had half expected her to do it. She didn't really strike him as the type of woman who wanted to cuddle afterwards, he wasn't all that into it either. It did however cause his gut to churn with concern, was she having second thoughts?

He was pleasantly surprised to find her rolling towards him again. Head resting on his shoulder and an arm slung low over his hips, she met his questioning look. Shifting closer to him, she lightly traced her fingers over the scar that ran down the middle of his chest, yet another reminder that he'd had too many close calls.

"Ever since Afghanistan-" She cleared her throat."I've tried to avoid emotional attachments."

He understood all too well what she meant, even if their circumstances had been different. Lacing his fingers in her hair, he tilted her face towards him, kissing her long and slow. Hoping that she'd understand that he was willing to be patient. The kiss drew to an end, and she nuzzled against his shoulder, content to wrap herself around him.

Suddenly, he didn't mind cuddling all that much.

* * *

 _Told you there was no plot. (shrugs shoulders)_

 _Thanks for reading._


	2. Always

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: I have no idea where this piece came from, and I don't think it makes much sense either. I was encouraged by NerdyJibbsOreo to write a tag to 16x10. Let's be honest, did you guys really think I could pass on such a cute episode, even though I'm a little late. If you are disappointed in how this turns out, that would make two of us._

 _Warning: This was written by someone who has been sleep deprived for a few days._

 _*Enjoy_

* * *

The coffee machine had been the culprit, that was the story he was sticking to if either of them were to wake up. He'd been avoiding the new born as much as possible. He knew that when the time came for Nick and Ellie to give the child away, they were going to have a tough time doing so. Why he'd allowed himself to do what he just did, he'd never know.

The baby had kept all three of them up for most of the night, even when he refused to take shifts. He took pity on them. A few decades ago he'd been in their shoes, operating on little to no sleep. He'd never tell them that he felt sorry for them. They had created this mess on their own.

The cup sitting on the breakfast table was long since cold, a perfect cup of Jamaican blend had gone to waste. The swift kick to his stomach drew his attention to the blue bundle on his lap. The gummy smile directed his way was enough to stop the glare from forming on his brow.

The baby pushed away his bottle in favor of his thumb, his blue eyes searching the familiar face. Jethro placed the bottle next to his cup. Wrestling the baby's hand away from his mouth, he gave him his pacifier, smiling as the baby's eyes started to droop.

Cradling the baby close to his chest, he stroked a callused finger over his cheek. He didn't blame his agents one bit for falling in love with the little boy. He just hoped he'd get him to sleep and back in the cradle before either of them woke up, that way his hard-ass Marine persona would still be intact.

The baby blinked at him, any trace of sleep gone. Jethro rolled his eyes. Even though he missed being a father, struggling to get a baby to sleep was one thing he didn't miss all that much. Abandoning his seat, he cradled the baby against his chest more securely, gently rocking him from side to side.

He was too caught up with the baby to realize that someone was standing right behind them. The gentle hand on his shoulder had him frozen in place. He could just see the all knowing smirk on Ellie's face, he'd rather have Ellie catch him being a teddy bear instead of Nick. Taking a deep breath he turned around, hoping the fake look of displeasure would be convincing enough.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him, amused as the dark look on Gibbs' face melted into one of pure terror. Those icy blues flicked down to the baby in his arms before meeting hers. She smiled up at him, the image of him holding the tiny blue bundle causing her to melt on the inside. It was taking all her self-control not to let a soft _'Aw'_ slip.

He'd seen the gleam in her eye the moment she saw the baby in his arms. Shifting the suddenly fussing baby, he placed him carefully in her waiting arms. He watched as her brown eyes melted into warm pools of comfort, drawing both him and the baby into their depths.

The baby stared up at her, offering her a gummy smile as he sucked his pacifier. Jethro placed an arm around her shoulders as she adjusted the little guy. She looked up at him, and he couldn't resist the urge that over took him. Bumping his nose against hers affectionately, he placed a gentle hand on her neck.

Allowing his eyes to flutter shut, he kissed her.

Maybe it was the festive season, or the fact that they had two very observant agents asleep behind them who could catch them in a very intimate moment. It might even have been the caring comfort they both shared for the baby. Whatever it was, it was electrifying.

He hadn't realized how much he had missed her in the short amount of time that she had been gone until he was kissing her again. They had spent a number of nights together. A stolen weekend here, or a hush-hush midnight meeting at which ever of their houses were closest at that moment.

She had extended the invite of going up to Vermont a few days before she left. The promise of being cooped up with her in a luxurious room with some damn fine whiskey had been tempting to say the least. Although his mind hadn't strayed far from the king sized bed she had spoken of, he had still declined her invite.

He was still unsure of where exactly it was they were headed. No relationship he'd had in the last few years had ended well for him. He usually ended up with either a bleeding skull, or a _Dear John_ letter stained with sorrow filled tears.

Instead, he'd told her to enjoy the Lodge and the quiet while it lasted, indirectly asking her to give him sometime to battle with his emotions. With Jack going skiing and most of his team going to their families for the holidays, he had volunteered to be on call and work with the team who had ended up being on duty. Silently hoping they'd catch a case that would prevent him from confronting his tumultuous feelings.

What he hadn't bargained on was having Nick and Ellie crashing on his couch, while he desperately tried to avoid any form of connection with the beautiful little boy they were caring for. Luck, however, wasn't on his side – it never really was.

Jack pulled away from their kiss, she could almost taste the conflict on his lips. He looked at her with darkened eyes, lust dilating his pupils. If it weren't for the two agents and the tiny baby in the house, she'd most likely be dragging him upstairs by his shirt collar.

He quietly asked her if she wanted some coffee, hoping not to wake the dozing baby. She nodded and watched as he adjusted the blanket around the baby. Leon had told her over the phone that Gibbs wasn't all that happy about the baby being in their custody, but she knew it ran deeper than that. The gentleness in his touch was evident that his reaction was a way to protect himself.

Watching as he set about making a new brew of coffee, she picked up the song she had been listening to on her way over.

* * *

Little Logan was finally safe and sound. At least that was the name she had been calling him whenever she had been alone with the little guy. The silence between her and her companion was starting to make her nervous. A weekend away, snowed in and trying to steal his warmth had sounded irresistible in her mind. His reaction to her invite had been nothing short of lustful.

Yet, he had declined. She had been disappointed, she had been looking forward to having him all to herself. He needed space right now; it was all so new to the both of them. A few days away from each other might have been good for the both of them, but now her plans were in ruins and going back to a cold apartment wasn't first on her list.

Nudging Gibbs with her shoulder she smiled. "Merry Christmas, Gibbs." Her eyes never leaving the new family.

Jethro turned towards her. He watched the snow drift softly in the light breeze, the delicate ice coming to rest in her golden locks. "Merry Christmas to you, Jack." If the various cards on her desk in her office were any indication, he was confident in his assumption that she liked Christmas.

"Still goin' skiing?"

"It's a little late now."

He didn't miss the disappointment in her voice. She tore her eyes away from the happy scene, looking up at him. Golden brown eyes stared up at him and for a moment he was content with just being lost in the warmth they filled him with.

"Why? You got a better plan?" She watched as he tried to avoid her curious gaze.

"I was just thinking about that gift bottle you gave out."

"Kentucky's finest." She informed him quickly.

"Oh."

"Small batch." She smiled up at him. She had spent days trying to find the best bottle of whiskey, knowing that if there was one person who would appreciate it, it would be him.

"I wanna crack that." The sparkle in his blue eyes was enough to convince her to spend Christmas with him. "You in?"

Jack felt the butterflies flutter as he looked at her and she nodded her head. There was no pretense. He wanted to share his beloved bottle of whiskey with her. Despite the fact that they were in – in a what? A relationship. He had no expectations of her. He simply didn't want to be alone this Christmas.

She couldn't fight the smile as she looked up at him as he towered over her. The colorful bulbs around them reflected in those soft blue eyes. More than anything she wanted to kiss him.

He was leaning towards her, his warm breath washing over her cold skin. In a moment of panic, she placed her hands against his chest, dropping her head, so he couldn't kiss her. He pressed his lips to her forehead. She nuzzled her nose against his chest, allowing both his warmth and scent to envelope her.

Jethro wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his side as they watched the scene in front of them.

\/

The fire was crackling in the hearth, the lights on the Christmas tree twinkling brightly in the otherwise dark house. Neither of them felt like turning on a light, Ellie and Nick had left half an hour ago, leaving the two of them alone. Jack hadn't missed the look they shared when they realized she was staying.

Jack stared at the crib, unconsciously rocking it from side to side. Heartbreaking memories had been unearthed today. No one knew, not even Leon. Gibbs, on the other hand, had put the pieces together, perhaps he'd picked up on the pain she had desperately tried to keep out of her voice. Then again, he of all people would, he'd lost a child. Giving up her little Faith had been the only option at the time.

A warm hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her memories. A fine cut crystal glass filled with three healthy fingers of _Booker's Small Batch Bourbon Whiskey_ was handed to her almost reverently. She raised her eyebrows at the fairly expensive glass.

Jethro took his spot next to her, settling into the corner of the couch. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she settled against his side, the smell of her perfume washing over him – mixing deliciously with the strong sent of bourbon.

She twisted the glass around in her hand, looking at him for an explanation.

Jethro sipped his bourbon thoughtfully, studying his own crystal glass. "They were a gift." The giver had been a green eyed redhead who had insisted that expensive whiskey was meant for expensive crystal.

He plucked himself out of his thoughts. He looked at Jack, her eyes soft and full of understanding. He felt his heart swell, if only she knew what those smoldering brown eyes did to him. He watched as she sipped the ridiculously expensive bourbon. The twinkling lights reflected off her now wet lips, inviting him to kiss her senseless.

He took the glass from her, placing it safely on the coffee table with his. Before she could get a word in, he was pulling her closer. He cupped her cheek, the skin soft against his palm. He felt her smile against his lips as he pressed his forehead against hers. Pulling away for a second, he simply looked at her.

Soft blonde locks curled around her face, brown eyes hazy and sparkling from both the whiskey and the lingering promise that he was about to kiss her. He admired her tanned skin, images of her in a scantily clad bikini flashing through his mind.

Jack shifted, turning more towards him. Placing her small hands on his handsome face, she smoothed the last few lines of stress from the case away. Fingertips glided over his face, finding their way into his hair. He slid an arm around her, feeling her soft body against his as she found her way onto his lap, straddling his hips.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he traced her bottom lip with his other thumb. For the first time since they started this, her eyes were unguarded, pain filled irises stared down at him. He knew there was nothing he could do for her that would take the pain and regret away.

He doubted that he would have had the strength to give up his own child, but he knew she had done what was best. It explained so much about how she could calm young Elena. He suspected that her taking care of the baby while Nick and Ellie ran down leads hadn't helped her wounded heart all that much. He'd caught her a few times calling the little boy Logan.

Jack felt the tears well in her eyes. Why did he have to be so damn perceptive about everything? She should have kept her feelings in check, or maybe she should have gone up to Vermont and drowned herself in alcohol until she could deal with everything again.

Cupping her cheeks, he wiped away the silent tears that rolled over her soft skin. She sniffed, giving him a watery smile as she tried to wipe away her tears. He pulled her closer, pressing his cheek against hers, feeling her hot tears against his own cheek. Hugging her closer, he held her tight. "It's okay to cry."

He'd seen her cry before, but that had been out of anger. He'd never seen her this emotional, a part of him wanted to coddle her until everything was back to normal. Jack dropped her head against his shoulder.

Seeing him earlier that morning holding the baby had brought a whole set of new questions and unresolved emotions. Where would she have been if she had made different choices in her life? The gentleness of his touch as he wiped away the tears had her holding her breath. She was terrified that he would push her away if he knew about all the darkness she harbored inside her.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing hers lightly. This was the line they had been toeing for the last few weeks. The line between friends with benefits and a serious relationship. He brushed her hair out of her face, watching as her eyes flickered with so much emotion. He tried to prepare himself to be let down. He'd respect whatever she decided was best for them.

"Jethro..." He swallowed hard, she'd never used his first name before.

She shook her head, words suddenly failing her. Sharing her emotions with someone wasn't really her best quality. Pulling him into a hug, his face nuzzled against her breasts, she could feel his soft panicked breaths. He was even more terrified than she was. Pressing her lips against his ear, she felt him take a deep breath, "I like you." she whispered quietly.

Jethro stared up at her. The true meaning of her words written on her face, he nodded his head. Being emotionally available to someone else has been so far out of his ballpark he was having a tough time formulating a response. "I really like you too." His voice was hoarse as he finally spoke.

The taste of rich oak infused bourbon flooded his senses as she kissed him. Any doubt he had about what was between them was driven out of his mind as her tongue touched his. All he could think about was the feel of her body against his and the warmth in his soul.

* * *

There were clothes scattered all around them on the floor. The twinkling lights illuminating their skin in colorful patterns. The snaps and crackles of the firewood mingled with their heavy breathing, the heat from the fire warming their rapidly cooling bodies.

He could still feel his skin tingle where her naked body pressed against his. She shivered from the sudden drop in temperature. Feeling along the back of the couch, he found a blanket. Throwing it over them, he tucked it around her shoulders securely.

This wasn't the first time their night ended with them sprawled out on his couch. Some nights they were naked other nights they were just too tired to move. Usually after he'd fallen asleep, she'd slip out of bed or off the couch. He'd listen as she quietly got dressed, pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then disappear as if nothing had happened. He had never confronted her about it or asked her why she wouldn't spend the night with him.

Jack trailed light kisses across his chest, moving up his throat and finally planting a kiss on his swollen lips. Her breathing was still heavy, her body a quivering mess. Resting her head on his chest, she watched the snowfall outside.

She was suddenly thankful to whoever had a hand in ruining her plans to go skiing. Fear had always clouded every relationship she'd ever had. It was the main reason she left in the dead of night, she couldn't subject anyone to the hell that was her nightmares. The few nights Gibbs had stayed at her place, she had been awake the whole night hoping to ward off any unwelcome dreams.

Things between them had shifted. She was no longer scared about what he would think of her when the nightmares did come. He'd been there himself, knew that it was something one could never escape from.

Jethro shifted, looking down at the woman sprawled across his chest. He pulled her closer, fingers lacing in her golden hair. He stared at her for a long moment, wishing he could force his feelings into words that would actually make sense.

Sensing his struggle, she kissed him, snuggling closer as he tried to express himself. Jethro cupped her face in his palms, "Stay?"

Jack chewed the inside of her lip. The brief flicker of her lover's eyes told her that he was apprehensive of her answer. Resting her forehead against his, she kissed him long and slow, before making up her mind.

"Always."

* * *

 _If any of you can find the plot to this, please let me know. ;) Yes, I added that scene with Gibbs and the baby, because not even Leroy Jethro 'No' Gibbs could withstand that baby's cuteness._

 _Thanks for reading._


	3. When Darkness Comes

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: Dear lovely readers, this once again has no plot. This whole series of tags seem to be some sort of experiment for me to write with no plot in mind. Just emotional babble that seems to try and resolve itself in the end. This is dedicated to **NerdyJibbsOreo** who has been patiently listening to my endless rants, and who has blessed us with beautiful **Slibbs**_ _gifs._

 _Inspiration:_

 _ **Nick: "I never doubted Gibbs one second."**_

 _ **Jack: "I did. But I'm learning."**_

 _ **(16x11)**_

 _*Enjoy_

* * *

The gentle breeze wrapped its icy fingers around his skin. He frowned, he'd been comfortably warm a few moments ago. Searching for the comforter, he tugged it forcefully, covering his suddenly freezing body. Letting out a groan of discontent, he felt around for the warm body that had been wrapped around his just before he had fallen asleep.

The sheets were cold.

Jethro woke with a start, eyes blinking a few times. He waited for his eyes to adjust, his blurry vision slowly fading. Taking a deep breath he sat up, the comforter pooling around his waist. For a moment, it felt like he was dreaming. He could have sworn she was right next to him when he had finally gone to sleep.

There was a fluffy pink towel hanging from the door, and it sure as hell didn't belong to him. Exhaling, he relaxed fractionally. He remembered being rather impressed with her packing skills, she could fit almost anything into the bag she had meant to take with her on her ski trip. She'd given him a smug smile, whispering _'_ _Army.' in_ his ear as she led him into the bathroom. That was three days ago.

The smell of her soap still clung to him. Seeping into his skin and burrowing itself somewhere in his subconscious to constantly remind him of her. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pushed himself up on an elbow. Judging by the coolness of the sheets, she had been out of bed for a while. He let out a quiet sigh.

The last few days had been spent sharing whatever food they could whip up when hunger struck. The remainder of the expensive bourbon had been placed out of harm's way, stored for the next special occasion. Neither of them had really felt the urge to be all that drunk this Christmas.

Drawing back the comforter, he swung his legs off the bed. Trying to get his bearings, he searched the room blindly for a pair of boxers, not all that comfortable parading through the house stark naked in the dead of winter. Slipping on a clean pair, he braced the cold and opened the bedroom door.

He stood in the dark hallway for a few minutes, suddenly apprehensive about going downstairs. The last three mornings he'd woken up to her being wrapped around him and was content to spend most of their time in bed.

He didn't know if she would be down there, and he didn't want to think about her not being there. Shaking the sleep from his head, he rubbed a hand across his bare chest, hoping to replace the warmth leaving his body.

The stairs creaked under his weight. If she was downstairs, she definitely would know he was now looking for her. Squinting against the light flooding in from the street lamps, he could just make out her tiny blue Mini behind his truck.

A silent sigh of relief left him. He contemplated going back upstairs, wanting to give her the space she so clearly wanted. He quietly hoped that she wasn't feeling trapped here. He didn't want her to feel obliged to spend her time off with him. Running a hand through his hair, he gave her car one last look before turning to go back upstairs.

The loud squeaking moan coming from the second step had him cringing. He dropped his head; eyes squeezed shut and his chin resting on his chest. Hopefully, she was in the basement, unaware that he was paranoid about where she went.

"Living room."

 _Busted._

He eyed the top of the staircase.

The step squeaked again. She let out a quiet breath, maybe he had hoped she would have left and had gone back to bed. Jack brushed a strand of hair from her face, watching the snow fall outside. This was all so new. She wasn't used to _'the morning after' , and whoever_ had been in her bed was usually gone by the time she woke up. He had asked her to stay, and she did, but so did the nightmares.

The first two nights she had been awake, the unfamiliar surroundings keeping her on high alert. The strong arms that had wrapped around her tonight had been so welcoming she'd been asleep before he was. The false sense of security had allowed her old demons to creep up on her. The dusty snippets of torture and brutality had forced her awake just in time.

Usually, she'd find her way to the gym, knuckles mercilessly pounding into the synthetic leather of a punching bag.

She didn't feel like running, not tonight anyway.

Jethro watched her from the doorway. Wrapped in a throw blanket, her tanned shoulders exposed to the frigid air. He could see her fight the shiver, pulling the blanket tighter around her, she tilted her chin up and wiped at her cheek. He frowned, wondering how he had missed her being upset.

This was the part where he'd usually turn tail and run. He'd seen a few women in her position, from ex-wives to girlfriends. He swallowed heavily, hoping to fight the tightness in his chest. Pain he could fix, he could find whoever inflicted it and make them pay.

Emotions – he couldn't even deal with his own.

The idea of disappearing back upstairs was becoming more and more appealing the longer he stalled. He watched as she set her shoulders, wiped away the fresh set of tears and took a calming breath.

The large palm on her shoulder caused her to hold her breath, wondering how long he'd been watching her. Jack pressed her lips in a thin line, hoping he wouldn't see how bloodshot her eyes were. She met his concerned gaze, the tired smile he offered causing the guilt to bubble up inside her.

"Didn't mean to wake you." She knew she didn't; she'd been sitting in the dark for the last two hours.

He just shook his head, not willing to admit that her absence had been the reason. He saw another shiver run through her body, despite her effort to fight it off. Pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder, he took a seat next to her on the back of the couch.

Jethro followed her line of sight, watching the snow fall on the deserted street. He hoped their reflections could offer him a better explanation than the silence between them.

Jack shifted, hoping he wouldn't notice how uncomfortable she was. She didn't want him to see her like this. A quivering mess that jumped at the slightest disturbance. This was why she didn't want to stay, she didn't want him to see her like this. It was the same reason she never had any serious relationships, they were terrified of the dark past she had to drag with her.

"I should go." She made sure the blanket was still securely wrapped around her when she pushed off the couch.

He grabbed her arm, finger lacing around her arm. She snapped her head towards him, eyes murderous as she glared at him. He seemed unfazed by the look, letting up on his grip, he frowned.

"Don't..." He shook his head, the words stuck in his throat. It felt like he was fighting against himself. Had this been any other moment in his life, any of his failed relationships, he'd let them walk out that door without a second glance.

She was different, _this_ was different.

"If you want to go-" He cut himself off. He didn't want her to go, he didn't want things between them to end like this. He shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't keep her from leaving, even if he tried.

Jack felt her resolve break, choosing instead to focus on his inability to communicate instead of telling him why she wanted to run.

Walking closer, she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, the muscles tense. One hand drifting up his neck, cupping his cheek softly. "Just talk." She smiled down at him as he looked up at her.

Jethro opened his mouth, the lines on his forehead deepening. "I just want you to trust me." He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. He could feel the stiffness in her body the moment he had said it. Her palms pressed against his shoulders, trying to get away.

"It's not that easy." She moved away from him. Walking to the large window, she leaned against it, her shoulder pressing against the cold glass. "It's not something you can just command, Gibbs."

He scrubbed a hand over his face, frustration slowly digging its claws into him. He'd seen the fear in her eyes, had recognized it for what it was. He could empathize with what she felt, after all, he'd been there himself, that's why there was a boat in his basement.

"I know." The voice that answered her was rough, filled with understanding.

Jack chewed her bottom lip. He wasn't judging her, or asking her what was keeping her up at night. He saw her demons for what they were, recognized some of them as his own. She _did_ trust him, but the last time she had placed her trust in someone they had been tortured to death.

She didn't know if he would be able to handle her when she woke up screaming – fists flying. Yet, he has been trusting her. She knew he was plagued with nightmares, knew that he could turn deadly if she intervened when he was fighting his own darkness.

Jethro dropped his head, suddenly fascinated with the wood underneath his feet. Her fingers itched to run through the long strands of white hair, to smooth away to worry and stress that followed him around. For the first time since she got to know him, he looked defeated. The perfectly defined muscles in his arms bulged and rippled as he clenched his hands in the material of the couch. Years of wood working had kept him in great shape.

Licking her lips, she pushed away from the cold window. Giving in to temptation, she ran her fingers through the soft strands of white the moment she was close enough. Sharp blue eyes looked up at her, guarded and almost cold – the look sending a shiver down her spine.

Running her palms down the sides of his face, she placed them on his chest. The smattering of silver hair soft against her hands as she pressed against the firm muscles. He leaned back to look at her, the slight twitch of his muscles giving away that he was preparing for her rejection.

Jack laced her fingers with his, his hands almost enveloping hers. Leaning down, she kissed him softly. "Let's go to bed."

Jethro allowed her to tug him up the stairs and down the hall. He wasn't going to question her change of heart. She hesitated the moment they stepped inside his bedroom, eyes watching the crumpled navy blue sheets with panic.

Loosening the edge of the blanket she'd wrapped around herself; he watched as it dropped to the floor. He tried to ignore the reaction his body had, focusing on her instead. Stepping up behind her, he placed his hands on her hips, pulling her into him.

Warm lips met her cold shoulders, trailing light kisses across her tanned skin as he wrapped his arms around her. Reaching behind her, she managed to force his boxers off his hips and down his thighs. She needed to feel him, _all_ of him. He placed a hand intimately low on her abdomen.

"I'm right here." He whispered reassuringly.

Jack nodded, placing her hands over his as he tightened his grip, tilting her head towards him she smiled shyly. "It might take a while."

He kissed her softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "I have time."


	4. The Best Idea

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: Plot you ask, there is none dear reader. This is a product of me neglecting my studies for some much needed Slibbs goodness. Also, my plot and I took a sharp turn, fell of a cliff and landed on a beach._

 _ **Inspiration:**_

 _A much needed vacation, preferably somewhere on a sandy beach, since it is hot as hell here on the southern side of the hemisphere. For this tag a give you some at advice in the words of Special Agent Nick Torres._

 _ **Nick: "Don't over think it."**_

 _ **(16x15)**_

 _*Enjoy_

* * *

The comfortable heat was a welcoming change from the frigid weather they had been experiencing back in DC. He'd listened to her moan continuously about the cold weather whenever they managed to be together, it had amused him, watching her try and stay warm as she wrapped herself in several layers.

The impromptu break was brought on by the maelstrom of emotional cases they'd had the last few weeks. The one person who would usually listen even when he didn't say much, had been busy most of the time. Jack's assistance had been requested by JAG, making use of her expertise on a rather high-profile case.

The only time he'd seen her in the last two week was in the hospital when she'd been with Lily Burke. She'd only returned the day they'd caught the case with McGee's computer. The plans they had made for dinner had been interrupted halfway through when Delilah had phoned, frantically asking him to get there ASAP.

Jack had smiled at him sympathetically as she shooed him away, staying behind to finish her dinner. He'd managed to get another reservation at the restaurant on short notice, leaving no room for argument when she'd reassured him that it wasn't necessary.

Vance had ordered them all to finish their case reports as soon as possible, and that he didn't want to see them until the following Monday. They had been halfway there when she had shivered for the umpteenth time that night. He wasn't overly impulsive, not to this extent, but he'd done it anyway.

The sudden spontaneity is what landed them on a beach in Baja. They hadn't had time to pack, so whatever they needed they'd bought on their way here.

Jethro let out a long sigh, Leila had left the tiny shack that had been rebuilt after being burnt down to him after Mike had passed. He hadn't been back here since the funeral. Camila had made sure the property was taken care of, her last reminder of Mike Franks. He adjusted the ball cap he had found laying around, trying to keep the sun out of his eyes.

Jack had been up since the crack of dawn, leaving him to sleep while she luxuriated the feel of the icy water. He shook his head as he watched her intently, diving gracefully before the waves crashed. For someone who hated the cold, she sure as hell didn't mind the cold water. The water was tempting, given that the turn of the seasons was only a few weeks away and the sun was bordering on scorching.

The first cold droplet of water that crashed with his heated skin caused his eyes to snap open. He couldn't remember falling asleep. He blinked a few times, scrubbing a hand over his face. He glared up at the blonde, hoping to force that cheeky smile off her face.

"Sleep well, Cowboy?" The amusement was barely concealed as she pulled her fingers through her wet hair.

Jethro cleared his throat, blue eyes caressing her lithe body as she combed her fingers through her wet hair. Golden tanned skin glistened with water droplets, unable to resist, he reached out and placed a hand on her thigh. Tightening his grip, he pulled her closer, even though she didn't need much coercing.

Taking the newly vacant spot next to her lover on the hammock, she pressed her wet body against his much warmer one. He hissed softly as her cold skin pressed against his. Pulling off his hat, she cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

Silver hair glistened with sweat under the hot sun, almost glowing. Those vivid cobalt blues searched her face questioningly. Dragging her thumb across his lower lip, she leaned in, kissing him softly. It didn't take long for him to respond. A large palm found its way to the small of her back, pressing her firmly against him.

Nipping his lower lip softly she pulled away. He let out a soft grumble before nuzzling his nose against her neck, a rush of air cooling her skin as he sighed. Running her hand through his damp hair, she massaged his scalp softly.

He'd been out like a light the moment they had settled on the tiny bed. The red eye they'd caught finally taking its toll. Smoothing a palm over his chest to rest lightly on his abdomen, she took a moment to simply look at him.

The pair of blue swimming trunks adorned with small white palm trees had caused him to bitch all the way to the check out. When she'd suggested that he could always swim in his boxers, he'd simply glared at her and muttered something under his breath. She smirked to herself, not even close to voicing the fact that he looked sexy in his tight swimming trunks, it might just stroke his ego too much.

A wandering hand crept down her side, fingers toying with the strings that kept her bikini in place. She grabbed his wrist just in time, before he could loosen the knot any more than he already had. He pulled back, eyes clouded with want as he placed soft kisses along her throat.

"Gibbs." She mewled softly. "Maybe we should move this inside."

He chuckled low in his throat, the vibrations sending tendrils of heat through her body. He simply hummed his agreement and nuzzled his nose against her throat again, his breathing slightly uneven.

Jack bit her lip, resuming her previous activity of carding her fingers through his soft hair. The impromptu vacation was a surprise. She'd never pegged him as the type to drop everything and go on vacation. When he did take time off, it was usually because he had to be forced away from the Navy Yard. Apart from the few days he'd taken after they had found Leon.

The night they had closed the case with Lily Burke, she had invited him for a drink at her place. When he'd shot the invitation down, she hadn't thought much of it. It had been for the better. She'd been swamped with a back log of paperwork that had been neglected while she was in court. She didn't do much on her part to let him know she was there if he wanted to talk.

Consumed with her own heartache of having to talk about her own little girl, she'd spent days behind closed doors, under the pretense that she was catching up on work or pretending she wasn't there. It wasn't until they had caught the case with Tim's computer that he'd finally ventured into her office.

Stress had caused the lines on his face to deepen, the dark smudges of fatigue under his eyes indication enough that he hadn't slept in weeks. When he'd offered to take her out to dinner, she had considered turning him down, still somewhat emotionally raw – and he had certainly not been in any better shape.

Dinner had been an almost awkward affair, neither of them sure what subject was easiest to approach. When his phone had interrupted them, she didn't know which one of them had been more relieved.

Jethro shifted, warm lips finding their way across the cool skin of her throat. Pulling back, he watched her whiskey brown eyes dart over his features. He knew she was still unsure why he had suddenly decided to fly them to a deserted beach in Baja.

He wasn't going to admit that the memories of Ziva and the past had been haunting him. He was no closer in telling her that she was the only refuge he had wanted these last few weeks. Jack smiled at him again, effortlessly picking up on his indecision.

Soft fingers brushed over his lips as she studied him. "I'm always there." Pressing a languid kiss to his lips, she smiled at him. "Even if you don't want to talk."

Jethro swallowed, inexplicably relieved that she never pushed for answers. Pulling her still wet body on top of his, he held her close. Lips meeting softly, as if for the first time. Emotions bubbled up inside him, things he hadn't felt in years. Maybe it was the heat, or the fact that he was finally content with his life.

Easing them out of the hammock, he let her wrap her legs around his waist, he maneuvered the treacherous sand all the way to the tiny shack that offered a bit more shade. He couldn't concentrate with Jack whispering everything that she wanted to do to him in his ear.

The ridiculous shorts he had on did nothing to hide his obvious reaction to her silent promises. Lightly kicking the flimsy door open, he headed for the bedroom and the small bed and the cool sheets. The fan blowing in the tiny room washed over them, cooling his warm skin and causing goosebumps to rise on his lover's.

He kissed her again, this time allowed to untie the small knots of her bikini. Knowing hands drifted over his hips, pushing the soft material of his shorts down his hips.

He was pleased to note that she didn't flinch anymore when he brushed a hand over her back, trusting him to keep her safe and accepting her no matter what. Easing his long fingers in her wet blonde hair, he tilted her beautiful face towards him, kissing her long and slow, tongues brushing with heated promises.

"You were wrong." She murmured in his ear.

"What?" He was too distracted with her body to really pay attention.

"This is _'the best'_ idea you've ever had."

* * *

 _Is it just me or have I started going all **OOC** with Gibbs?_


	5. Beautifully Broken

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: All the credit for this goes to **NerdyJibbsOreo**_ _who wrote a very emotional tag to the latest episode in the **Underestimated Sensation**_ _tag series. If you haven't read it, I suggest that you do so immediately **:)** This has not been edited so bear with me._

 _Enjoy*_

* * *

 _Bloody._

 _Messy._

It had all been so clear, how could he have missed it. He had failed – them, himself and those who had loved them. The heat from early spring burnt the back of his neck, almost scorching as it traveled through the thick glass.

How had he let this happen? He knew better, this wasn't how it was supposed to end. He should've been in their position, should have taken their place when he first saw the signs.

He felt his stomach churn, guilt warring inside his chest, threatening to break free if he didn't keep his cool. The metal was cool against his palm, the barrel burning his finger. Such a contradiction. There was only one left, but couldn't meet his betrayed gaze, couldn't bring himself to see their _blood,_ their _mess_ splattered all over him – his perfect son.

"Boss..." There was heartache in his tone, the quiver of his lower lip evident in his voice. "They're all dead."

He focused on the figure slumped over his desk, thick blonde hair coated with pain, regret, fear – _blood._ It was his fault. He should have stopped her – warned her. Now it was too late, her blood was all over him – his face, his clothes – his soul.

Shifting his view to the desk across from his, he fought against the constriction in his throat. The boy was a fighter, a walking contradiction of what he did and who he was. On more than one occasion he'd seen his younger self flash in the boy's dark eyes, reminding him of just how much he wanted to help the kid. Before he ended up like him. Now he was dead.

Pale blue eyes landed over the last of them – the youngest between his agents – his baby. The remorse was too much, lodging itself in the lump that had formed in his throat. He wanted to reach out and touch her, shake her shoulder softly until she woke up and gave him that cute little grin she had when she was caught. "Oh, Ellie." _His baby girl._

They were all dead, because of him; he should have known better.

 _He had killed them._

The pistol in his hand was shaking as he trembled. _Why? God, why?_

The steady hand of his agent clamped over his, wrestling the pistol from his tight grip. He met Tim's betrayed green eyes, trying to show him that he was sorry. But he'd never say it – he didn't apologize.

"Why'd you do it, Boss?" There was no accusation in his soft voice. "Why'd you kill them, Boss?"

Jethro swallowed, his mouth dry. Could he not see why? Wasn't it obvious to everyone by now?

" _Never get personally involved on a case, Tim. Never."_

* * *

Jethro gasped, trying to fill his deprived lungs with oxygen.

Wiping away the sheen of sweat beading on his forehead, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, forcing the gruesome images away. The conversation with McGee had dredged up a lot of unwanted thoughts. Stretching his neck, his head lolled to the side, staring at the empty spot beside him on the bed.

He was exhausted, both mentally and physically. After McGee had left, he'd caused more damage to his precious boat than he had been trying to fix all the tiny imperfections. There was now yet another chunk of wood missing, that needed to be replaced.

He almost reached out for the warm body that usually resided next to his. Cursing under his breath, he heaved himself up, too depressed to stay in the bed they occasionally shared a second longer without her there next to him.

The desire to get blindingly drunk over powered any other need. There were two bottles of bourbon sitting in his basement, and he was dead set on finishing them both tonight – alcohol poisoning be damned. Trudging down the stairs as quickly as possible, he made his way to the inviting emptiness of his basement.

The _Chickadee_ glowed in the dim light of his basement, he'd been too tired to turn off the lights – granted he'd only closed his eyes for an hour.

The amber alcohol sloshed invitingly inside the tempered glass as he grabbed the bottle of _Jim Beam_. The events of the last month weighing heavy on his shoulders as he took a healthy gulp from the bottle. Ellie's constant need to bring up Ziva wasn't boding well with his gut, the feeling was only further intensified when she asked him cryptically if he knew.

What the hell was he supposed to know? That he'd made a mistake allowing the better half of his team to let their emotions cloud their judgment. Everything _had_ worked out today. But what about tomorrow? Or next week? There was no knowing what would happen if one of them slipped up, he didn't know if he'd be able to help them put the pieces back together.

Slouching in the rickety chair in front of the workbench, he stared at his boat, swallowing another gulp of whiskey. He'd been looking for his feisty lover when he had woken up, wanting to bury his nose in the softness of her hair. Wishing that she'd calm his fears with a soft kiss and gentle smile.

The anger inside him twisted his guts, forcing a grimace to settle on his face as he thought about what had transpired between the two of them. Maybe he shouldn't have played his cards the way that he had, he should've waited until she told him about Faith Tolliver.

He was fed up with lies and secrets, and his agents sneaking around his back doing God knows what.

In retrospect karma was after all a real _bitch_. Jethro Gibbs had been in the exact same position as all three of his ex-wives and of numerous other women who had been stupid enough to fall for him. _Now_ he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of all the lies and secrets. If only Diane was still around – he might even have apologized to her for being such a prick the entirety of their marriage.

He knew first hand what secrets could do, how it could ruin a relationship with neither party realizing it. The _Dear John_ letter and engagement ring that had been in the envelope with it, was a constant reminder that deceit was a powerful thing.

The creak of the basement stairs had him looking up lethargically. How'd he get drunk this quickly? He glared at the empty bottle of _Jim Beam_ , feeling slightly betrayed that he had finished it so quickly. Blinking a few times, he squinted his eyes, desperate to make out which of NCIS' finest had found their way into his basement.

Was it the swan, or perhaps his own leafy green plant? He didn't know if he had the strength for either of them right now. He'd be too tempted to actually shake them until they agreed they'd stop allowing their emotions to get the better of them.

He lifted his head, the squint turning into a dark glare. Tightening his grip on the bottle of alcohol, he watched her guardedly as she moved across the basement, fingers dancing over the broken beam of his boat. He swallowed the last mouthful of bourbon, placing the empty bottle on the counter.

Cracking the wax seal on the fresh bottle of _Maker's Mark, he_ snapped the top off with practiced skill. The unique burn washing down his throat.

"Mind sharing?" The smile she offered him was forced as she held out her hand for the bottle.

Flicking his eyes between her hand and his bottle of comfort, he ignored her and pushed off his chair.

The old staircase protested loudly under his drunken weight as he stomped up them slowly. Guilt and anger clashed inside him, forcing him to take another swig of his bourbon. He could hear her heels follow closely behind him.

The few lamps in his living room were turned on, something he assumed she had done when she had seen how dark his house was. He was suddenly irritated with her presence. He didn't want her here – because seeing her meant he had to face his own fears and paranoia.

"Mind sharing?" She uttered once more, steadily growing annoyed with him as he glared at her from his spot on the couch.

Jethro brought the bottle to his lips, taking yet another healthy gulp. He licked his lips, tilting his head to the side he narrowed his eyes. "Go home, Jack."

Jack bit the tip of her tongue, desperately trying to excuse his behavior, knowing that he was beyond drunk by now.

The words cut deep, _his_ words cut deep. Sniffling against the tears that still lingered in her dark eyes, she pressed her lips together.

She never wanted him to know about Faith or the fact that she had given up her only child because she couldn't be the parent her daughter needed. Not when she'd found out he had lost his only little girl – and she had given her little girl away in the blink of an eye.

It didn't change the fact that she felt exposed, betrayed. She had placed her trust in him, that he wouldn't dig and he had gone and done it anyway.

"Gibbs, I-"

"No," He held up a hand, blue eyes glassy as he looked at her. "Go home or don't say anything."

Jack nodded, fighting the tears as they welled in her eyes – not willing to admit that he had brought them on. Somewhere in the back of her subconscious mind she had known all along that whatever was between them was too good to be true, she would have eventually driven him away. Few men had stuck around as long as Leroy Jethro Gibbs had, for that he deserved some recognition.

Picking up her keys, she toyed with the single key to his house. Forcing it off the key ring, she dropped it on the various boat magazines spread across the coffee table.

Like Faith said, all she ever did – all she was good at – was walk away.

The ache in her chest was enough to let the tears roll over her cheeks. She'd been in this position numerous times before, no one liked secrets, especially not her secrets. It had never hurt like it did with him. He was her friend, one of the very few people who knew what she had been through – and she'd stupidly allowed herself to fall in love with him.

This time it was supposed to be different. She was supposed to be different. Things weren't so clear anymore. Faith had asked her why she had made the move to DC when she knew that one day something might happen. Perhaps she had hoped that something would force her to go back to California.

Jack took a hesitant step towards the couch. Gibbs looked up at her, blue eyes crystal clear, nowhere near as drunk as he had hoped. Placing a gentle hand on his cheek, she studied him for a few seconds. Running her fingers through the soft silver strands, she made sure he was looking at her.

"Goodbye, Cowboy."

Realization had dawned on her the moment Gibbs had stormed out of her office, pissed off that she had kept vital knowledge of her daughter from him. The relationship they were in had to end. The lines between being professional and intimate had been tangled for far too long. The feelings she harbored for him would probably never fade, but she couldn't force him to change who he was just so she wouldn't have to tell him everything about herself.

They stared at each other, his eyes shimmering with anger or hatred, she wasn't sure. Pulling her hand away, she slipped them inside the pockets of her coat. The click-clacking of her heels echoed in the quiet house as she hurried towards the door before he could process what was going on. The inebriated state he was in gave her enough time to escape without having to answer all his questions.

The slam of the front door had her jumping back, crashing into the solid heat behind her.

His warm breath washed over her cheek, the stench of the alcohol on his breath causing her to swallow. Looking up, she caught his angry gaze in their joint reflection of the window. The feel of his broad chest pressed against her back forced her to try everything she could to stay calm. She knew he would never do anything to hurt her, not intentionally.

He was heavy against her, anger simmering in those blue eyes, and he was drunk. He could handle his alcohol, but at the rate that he was drinking she was surprised he was actually coherent enough to look as though he hadn't had a drop.

"Where are you going?" The barest hint of a slur was evident in his voice.

"Home, Gibbs. You should go to bed." The large palm against the door prevented her from yanking the front door open.

"Why are you leaving?" He sounded truly confused as to why she wanted to leave.

Jack spun around, slightly amused to actually see him this drunk. "You told me to."

He wrinkled his brow, staring at her for a good minute. He shook his head, silver hair falling over his forehead as he pressed his forehead against hers. "You told _me_ to send you home." He sounded truly affronted that she would even suggest that he wanted her to leave.

"Gibbs, you're drunk. Go to bed, sleep it off, we'll talk in the morning if you feel like it."

"Not that drunk."

She actually believed him, despite the fact that he was somewhat unsteady on his feet.

Jethro licked his lips, drawing strength from the alcohol coursing through his body. "Don't leave, Jack." He frowned, staring at her mouth. He took a deep breath, exhaling somewhat self-consciously, knowing his breath reeked of bourbon. "I..." he frowned, the throbbing in his head agonizing. "I can't protect you if you leave me."

He sounded vulnerable, pained that he was failing in the one area he prided himself in. Cupping his cheeks in her small hands, she nudged his nose with hers affectionately. "You don't have to protect me, Gibbs. I'm a big girl."

He shook his head vehemently, not willing to tell her about the horrors that plagued him, but wanting to argue his point anyway. "Need to." He mumbled as he nuzzled his nose in her hair, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest.

He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't get personally involved in a case, and he had watched her try and do it. What if it had been his daughter? He probably wouldn't have been able to keep his emotions in check.

Jack shook her head, knowing that there was no arguing with him when he started reverting to monosyllabic answers. Running her fingers through his hair again, she could see him frown, no doubt fighting a headache that was forming. Taking his hand in hers, she led him up the stairs, back to bed.

Jethro followed obediently, fighting the pulsing thwack in his skull as he clumsily helped her remove his clothes. He didn't want to ask her to stay the night. He needed her to make that decision on her own without being pressured.

He honest to God didn't know what would happen to him if he allowed himself to get personally involved on a case. He'd made so many mistakes over the years, knew what he was capable of doing when his emotions clouded his judgment. He didn't want the people he cared for the most to carry around the same demons.

Tugging the blankets over his naked torso, he watched as Jack slipped between the covers, snuggling up against him and equally bare. The light went out, leaving him to focus on her silhouette. Soft lips pressed against the base of his throat, breaking down every last defense he had. The darkness made him defenseless against the feelings he had for her.

"Jack..."

"Jethro." He could feel her eyes rake over him in the darkness. Somehow this was easier, in the dark he didn't have to hide how broken he was, how scared he was of what might happen. Running his hand over the scars that marred her back, he knew that she was equally broke – equally scared.

"I love you."

* * *

 _Meh, I tried._


	6. Way Down We Go

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything._

 _A/N: Yes, the title of this chapter is the name of the song by **Kaleo** playing at the end of episode 22. This turned out different from what I had originally intended._

 _Enjoy*_

* * *

Everything was in a state of disarray. The entire agency had been following the court proceedings, watching with quiet intrigue and pride as they prosecuted yet another villain. She had opted to stay at the agency, hoping to occupy her thoughts for long enough before they turned towards the inevitable. Tension ran rampant throughout her day. Reporters were hounding Headquarters and Leon was doing his best to please everyone whose feathers had been ruffled by the revelation.

Fumbling with her abundance of keys, she jingled them until she found the right one. Balancing a stack of files under one arm and her purse under the other, she wrestled the key into the tiny hole. Blowing tendrils of hair off her forehead, she swore under her breath. It was only her luck that the elevator would be out on the day that she really had to use it.

Dumping the things in her hands on the nearest flat surface, she toed off her heels. Feeling her way blindly across her living room, she slapped her hand against the wall hoping she'd find the switch. The light bulb had popped three weeks ago, and the new one was sitting on the kitchen counter, but she hadn't had the will to change it.

Her personal life was a mess, for the sake of those around her. She'd put on a brave face and an eye-blinding smile that would stop them from asking questions. The conversation with Vance had been more a shared pain than a guidance to help him cope. Love affairs were messy, painful.

The revelation of Ellen Wallace had been like a shower of icy cold water. As both a colleague and a friend, she knew that Gibbs' past with the victim had forced their hand in a routine questioning. But, as a woman and his lover it had filled her with something completely different. The distance that was now between them wasn't one sided, despite their attempt of making amends after he'd found out about Faith, it was never the same afterwards.

Secrets, she realized, made up a big part of Jethro Gibbs' existence. They hadn't actually seen or spoken to each other ever since. On more than one occasion she had thought it petty of both of them to act as if there wasn't something deeper going on between them. The quiet insecure confession that he loved her weighed more heavily on her shoulders these days.

Internal conflict had kept her up at all hours of the night, forcing her to face the reality of what he had meant. Did she have to wait for the inevitable day that he would tell her that things between them weren't meant to be and live with the fact that he was scared to love again? Or was he simply waiting for the day she'd realize that there was no future between them?

It caused all sorts of knots to twist her up on the inside. She'd decided to give him time, leave him be to fester and brood by himself until he either brushed off their situation or until he decided to face what was happening between them.

Eventually slapping the switch, the kitchen light flickered on and slowly started brightening up the rest of her apartment. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she padded across the cold tiles to her precious coffee machine, hoping a strong brew would help her calm down. Alcohol was out of the question; she'd been down that unhealthy road a few too many times.

Jack stopped suddenly, halfway between the living room and the kitchen. A soft scuffle traveled down the dark hall, emanating from her bedroom door. Swallowing down the tightness in her throat, she reached for the Sig she had holstered at her hip before leaving the office.

Dark purple lacquered toes dug into the soft carpet that led down the hall. Peeking inside her study she gave the windows a critical look, knowing it was the only other way in or out of her apartment.

The windows were tightly shut. Either the intruder had thought it wise to close the windows, or they had used the front door. Silently praying that she would encounter the neighbor's cat and not some gun wielding maniac, she darted into the room, flicking on the lights in hope that she'd momentarily blind her intruder.

The dark blue tie on her gray duvet eased her threatening stance. Flicking the safety on her weapon back on, she placed it on the dresser. Taking in her neatly kept room, she spotted the dark suit jacket thrown haphazardly over her pillows.

In the darkest corner of her room, he stared back at her.

Blue eyes darted all over the room before landing on her. She watched him swallow down the coffee he had probably picked up on his way over. She'd half expected a bottle of bourbon to accompany him. He looked at her, eyes cold and guarded.

"Gibbs..." His name escaped her lips as a sigh of relief.

He looked years older as he stared at her with chips of ice. Pressing her lips together, she ran a hand through her hair, combing through the few knots she encountered. She glanced at him from behind her arm, the other hand coming to rest on her hip.

The awkwardness felt so foreign. She didn't know what to make of his sudden appearance in her bedroom brooding in the dark of night.

Jethro cleared his throat, watching the woman in front of him go about her normal nightly routine, as if finding him here was a common occurrence. It had been for a while, now, it felt forced. Most of his marriages had ended like this – pretentious and strained.

It had physically hurt him to stay away from her, to place her as far away from him as possible. The past was catching up to him and for once he couldn't seem to run from it fast enough.

She paced in front of him, her movements short and jerky – a sure sign that she was upset. He secretly enjoyed pissing her off. She was a force to be reckoned with and she was right – he did enjoy a good fight. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as she tugged her blouse free from her light cream trousers.

He didn't take his eyes off her as she decided to strip down to her underwear. It was graceful and sensual – she'd called him out on it before, informing him that perhaps it was his fetish, despite his vehement denial that he had no such thing.

Watching her pull the tattered Army t-shirt over her head, he eventually broke his obsessive staring, silently wondering when she'd kindly ask him to leave her home.

Pulling her hair in a messy bun, Jack nibbled her bottom lip. For once his silence unnerved her. Taking his jacket, she hung it neatly on a coat hanger, trying to keep herself busy. The tie's silky material slipped over her fingers, brushing her thumb over it she smiled to herself. Ellie had fussed about the tie for days before eventually giving it to Gibbs as a Christmas present.

Looking up she met his penetrative gaze.

"This is ridiculous!" Exasperation coloured her tone as she dropped the tie on the bed again. "What are we doing, Gibbs?"

Jethro raised an eyebrow with intrigue, hands clasping the armrests tightly. He shrugged his shoulders after a while. "Not much." His voice rough from a lack of use.

Gritting her teeth, she seethed quietly with anger. He didn't seem all too concerned with her obvious struggle to stay calm, and it got to her more than it actually should. Feeling extremely exposed, she pulled at the hem of her shirt, hoping to hide the fact that she was almost naked in front of him.

"If you're waiting for me to give you the boot, then I suggest you get your trash and get out."

"Jack-"

She spun around, dark eyes flaring with anger. "No! _Jethro_ ," a flash of irritation crossed her features as she padded towards him. Taking a seat in front of him on the bed, she glared at him.

"I never expected this to be easy." She sounded breathless all of the sudden and he realized that her tears were close. "I know you're going through a tough time, but dammit Gibbs! I'm not going to let you string me along."

He was an emotional wreck even if he never would admit to it. She was quickly breaking through all his defenses, and he couldn't stop her. A petite hand landed on his knee, squeezing tightly, and he suddenly knew what was about to come next. He felt the tell tale burn in his throat – the idea of her leaving him made him physically ill.

"It's best if we just-"

He reached for her before she could finish.

She let out a soft squeak as she landed in his lap, she stared at him with wide brown eyes, momentarily shocked into silence.

Strong fingers weaved through her hair, cradling her head gently. Pulling her towards him, he rested his forehead against hers, nose pressed against her cheek. Breathing the same air for a while, enjoying the closeness, they had deprived themselves of.

"I meant it, Jack." he cleared his throat, "I-"

"Don't say it."

She wasn't going to force him to say it again. Licking her lips, she smiled at him, blinking away the sting in her eyes.

Reaching out, she ran a hand through his soft gray hair. He leaned into her touch, nuzzling his nose against the palm of her hand. She shifted her hand, and he hissed at her in pain.

"Gibbs, I'm sorry." The sound of him grinding his teeth together echoed in her ears, sending an unpleasant shiver down her spine.

Jethro shook his head, pulling away from her touch. The cut on his cheek hurt like hell, blinking quickly he tried to hide the tears that formed in his eye. Shaking off her concern, he pulled her more firmly against him, hoping to distract her.

Jack glared at him, taking a firm hold of his chin and the top of his head, she twisted his face so until the light fell on the bruising skin next to his eye.

"You should have gone to a doctor. Now it's going to leave a scar." She reprimanded him lightly, knowing he'd never succumb to an injury that easily. "At the very least Jimmy, he would have been able to clean out the glass."

Jethro tried shaking her off again, uncomfortable with how much the simple cut bothered her. Conceding to her looking at the blood thing for longer than what was necessary, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Is' why I came to you. Thought you might be the gal for the job."

Jack rolled her eyes, shaking her head patronizingly. "Flattering as that is, I'm not that kind of doctor."

Abandoning her spot, she moseyed to the en suit bathroom, well aware that he was blatantly staring at her ass. Gathering what she needed, she padded back to the bedroom where she'd heard him shuffle around. He'd shed the rest of his clothing and was reclining against her pillows in a pair of plaid boxers that she had worn on a number of occasions.

Straddling his hips firmly, she grabbed his chin again, tilting his head towards the bedside lamp.

"Did you even clean it properly?" She asked under her breath, not missing the dark glare he shot her as she pressed a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant against the gut.

The tight muscles in his jaw quivered as she wiped the cut gently. Groaning under his breath, he yanked his head out of her grip violently. "You sure you know what you're doing?"

Jack raised a prim eyebrow at him. "I play nurse, and this is how you choose to repay me. I should just leave the tiny shards of glass in there."

Jethro glared at her again, gritting his teeth and turning his head so she could continue. He swallowed heavily as she moved closer, breasts pressed against his chest and her blonde hair tickling his nose as she tried to get a better look.

He blew out a tense breath through his teeth as she pulled a piece of glass out of the cut. Squeezing his eye shut, he growled in the back of his throat as she pressed the wet cotton ball against the open wound.

"You're a real Florence Nightingale, Jack." He teased as she wiped the cut clean.

Punching his shoulder lightly, he let out a breathless laugh as she moved to drop the used items in the tiny trash can. He leaned his head back against the pillows as she inspected her handy work. The tip of her fingers brushed over the bruising he'd noticed earlier in the day. He knew that he'd have a partial black eye by morning.

"No band-aid or steri-strips, Nurse Jack?"

Lithe fingers ran through his hair, leaning her elbows on his shoulders lightly, she settled on his lap comfortably. Kissing the tip of his nose, she fluttered her eyes at him. "Won't help now, but I'll be sure to bill you for all my trouble."

"Name your price." He murmured against her throat, consciously trying to focus on something other than his troubling thoughts. He sucked in a sharp breath as she pressed the warmth of her inner thighs against his groin.

He caught her lips with his. Running his tongue across her bottom lip, she relaxed into him, allowing him to control the kiss. He could taste the lingering frustration on her lips, moaning quietly as she nipped at his lip in silent retaliation for his behavior.

Grabbing her hips firmly, he flipped her on her back, grinning at the giggle she let slip. Claiming her mouth with his, he let the sound and taste of her wash though him, sending desire coursing through his veins.

They both let out a quiet sigh of contentment as they were finally intimately joined. Jethro sank his teeth into the tender skin of her clavicle, lost as she moved her strong body over his. Meeting her gaze with heavy lidded eyes, he swallowed down the emotions threatening to burst forth.

Jack stilled for a moment, hands cradling the back of his head as he stared up at her. Tracing a finger over his slightly swollen eye, she kissed him.

"For a moment, I thought I'd never see you again." It was the first time she was admitting it out loud. Up until now she had buried the fear behind the pretense that she was too pissed with him to actually care what happened to him.

"I'll always find my way back." He answered honestly.

Nodding blindly she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back as he picked up their rhythm again. Somewhere deep down inside her his words unsettled her, there was something coming.

This was just the calm before the storm.

* * *

 _Some serious foreshadowing for the upcoming episodes, cause it seems like it's going to be one hell of an emotional roller coaster._

 _Your thoughts are welcomed._


	7. Safe

_A/N: Nothing's mine. Except the mistakes, those are usually mine._

 _A missing Slibbs scene I've been contemplating since the season 17 premiere._

 _Spoilers: 17x01 & 17x02 (not really, but I'm playing it safe)_

* * *

She'd expected him, at least a slither of hope had expected him. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually spent more than a few minutes with him. Night and day had merged into each other, and she wasn't sure what day it was or when last she'd left NCIS Head Quarters for more than an hour to change clothes. Allowing herself to escape from the oppressive orange walls, she'd come home. To what she didn't know.

Jack Sloane never admitted to being scared, not of someone or something. Yet, she was _scared_ _for him_. The niggling feeling had tipped her off something was wrong when he didn't call her when he got home. He'd protested against it, snapping about not being her husband. The accusation had stung, but she still wanted to know he was safely tucked away in his basement.

The call had come after all, except it wasn't exactly the caller she had hoped it would be.

" _Something happened, Jack."_

Torres hadn't gone into details, but a call from him after work never meant anything good. That's when she'd lost track of time, didn't know if they'd already gone through all 24 hours of the day or if they were still stuck on hour 3.

The remaining two members of team Gibbs had left for the crime scene, and she'd opted to come home. Recuperating for a few hours before inevitably facing him. There was a maelstrom of emotions awaiting her back at the office, but right now all she wanted was some sleep and well… _him_.

The sudden rapt of knuckles on the front door almost had her jumping out of her skin.

Filtering the preferred profanity into a, "Just a sec'!" she made sure she was presentable before lugging herself back to the front door.

It wasn't like her to not check who was at her door at such a late hour, it wasn't until the lock on the door clicked and it was halfway open she realized her mistake. Her Sig was in reach, and whoever threatened on the other side of her doorstep would definitely get a swift punch to the throat if they tried anything.

"You expecting someone else?" The sound of his voice washed over her.

He was bloodied and dirty. Blue eyes strained as he studied her under the bright light of the small foyer. She couldn't help the way her own eyes trailed over his body, trying to find more blood or injuries. Grabbing his dirty hand, she forced him to step closer.

"I thought it was Leon dropping by."

"I can leave." He deadpanned as she moved closer to him, blonde hair falling across her face to hide her from his questioning look.

Jack shook her head, focusing instead on the scars marring his face. Touching his cheek tentatively, she felt him lean into her touch. There were too many conflicting emotions running through her. He flinched as she accidentally brushed her fingers over a gash. "Oh, Cowboy."

Pulling him into her apartment, she closed the door behind them, leaving what ever argument they might have on her doorstep for the moment.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him. He was sweaty against her cheek; his body tense as he pulled her in tighter. Cupping his cheek, she kissed him lightly, assuring herself he was okay.

* * *

The shower was still running in a steady stream when she finally returned with a spare change of clothes for him. She didn't spend too much time analyzing the fact that some of his underwear was mixed in with hers. Or that there was a small space in her closet for him. He'd been adamant he didn't need much.

She admired the length of his body through the glass, watching as rivulets of water ran down the expanse of his back. She tried ignoring the blood stained water still pooling around his feet as he tried to scrub himself clean. Feeling almost guilty for watching him, she dropped the toilet seat a little too loud, alerting him that she was there.

He turned to look at her, his face free of the dried blood she'd smelled on him earlier. Without saying anything, he pushed the door to the shower open, inviting her in if she wanted to join him.

Jethro reached for the soap again, lathering his hands enough to wash away the remaining grime off his face. The shower door closed behind him and felt her place her hands on his hips. Shifting around, he pulled her under the water, arms resting on her shoulders as she tilted her head back to let the warm comfort wet her hair.

He could feel his body instinctively react to hers. It always did, he couldn't help it. Judging by how her pupils dilated and her hands grabbed at his hips to keep him close, she couldn't either. It was primal, human instinct. Hell, she probably had some fancy word for it. He couldn't give in, no matter how much he wanted to. He wasn't in the right head-space and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel used.

Running his fingers through her wet hair, he cradled the back of her head in his large palm. "You doin' okay, Jack?"

Squeezing his hips affectionately she nodded. There was no point in dragging everything out into the open right now. Ziva David had blown the door to his emotions right open, and she doubted he'd be able to articulate anything at all if she started prodding.

"You're safe, that's all that matters." Whatever he wanted to say was cut off as she pressed her lips to his again. The feel of his tongue against hers, the taste of coffee he'd most like had before showing up still heavy on his lips. She clung to that as her reassurance that he was safe, banged up but safe.

The water had run cold by the time they stepped out of the shower. He'd watched her sashay into the bedroom after toweling off, appreciating the softness of her body in the dim light as she looked for something to sleep in. He got dressed quickly, knowing he needed to get back to the office and couldn't afford the luxury of taking his time.

She slipped one of his well-worn NIS shirts over her head. He was quietly envious of the grey material as it hugged her curves, inviting him to just strip it off. Grabbing his boots, he waited until she was in bed, snuggled up under the covers reading glasses on and book not too far out of reach.

"Wanna scowl about it?" The jest was so like her, knowing there was no scenario where he'd spill the contents of his heart all at once. The half smirk he gave her soothed the last of her fears.

Tying his boots, he stretched his back. Tugging at the collar of his polo, he turned towards her, arm stretching across her to support him as he leaned closer.

Large whiskey brown eyes darted all over his face, linger on his lips and then the fresh cuts on his face. "I failed her, Jack." He seemed to search her face for answers, hoping she'd be able to tell him what to do. "She needed me." The admission was quiet, and she had to strain to hear what he was saying. "Wasn't there."

She couldn't say anything, didn't know the full history the two of them shared. The best she could offer was comfort when he needed it. Knowing that sooner or later the walls would come crashing down around them and they would have to piece it all back together.

"I have to go." He sighed against her hair, enjoying the damp strands against his heated skin. "See you at the office."

"Wait." She gently forced him to lean back, reaching for the bedside drawer. He watched her rummage through various sweets and other things before finding what she was looking for.

Taking his hand in hers, she placed a key in his palm, curling their fingers together. "It's yours." She fluttered her eyelashes self-consciously. "Use it, don't use it."

It was her _I love you_ , allowing him to step into her personal space and just be with her when he felt like it.

Jethro brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her fingers softly. He knew what it meant to her, knew how guarded she could be when it came to her personal life.

Removing her glasses he pulled her onto his lap, one hand sliding up her bare thigh and the other supporting her back. He nudged his nose against hers, remembering her smell, damp hair forming wet patches on they grey material of the shirt. Could he tell her that while he'd been running for his life he'd been worried about hers? That is mind had been going in circles when he contemplated the 'what if she had been in the basement with them' factor for too long. Not tonight, they were both too emotional raw.

Grabbing her tight, he kissed her. Felt the moan against his lips as he deepened their kiss, nails pricking the tender skin of his neck as she tried to ground herself to the moment. Was 4 days, 5 days? All that he knew was he'd missed her, missed seeing her. Her breath whispered against his lips, pressing a few lingering kisses to his skin.

"Be safe, or I'll shoot you myself."

The guilty laugh was well worth the pinch he delivered to her thigh.

* * *

 _Depending on what will happen in regards to Slibbs in 17x03. This could possibly be the last chapter._


End file.
